Phantom
by Mamabug1981
Summary: Kurt lands a role as Christine in an all-male Broadway production of Phantom of the Opera. There he meets Blaine, who has been cast as the Phantom.
1. Overture and Think of Me

**Ok! So, my first ever Glee fic, and I tackle a freaking chapter story! I think I like the premise so far, but you'll have to tell me what you think. For the purposes of this story, Kurt never went to Dalton, and so never met Blaine. Oh, and Blaine is taller than Kurt in this one, just because, seriously, the Phantom cannot be shorter than Christine. Lyrics in the chapter are from the Phantom song Think of Me.**

**I own none of this but perhaps the storyline. Glee belongs to Ryan and Fox, Phantom of the Opera belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber and whoever the heck else it belongs to.**

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First day of rehearsals. Kurt Hummel was still in shock. When he had auditioned, completely on a whim, for an all-male production of Phantom of the Opera, he hadn't really expected to be cast. A freshman at NYADA, and his first ever Broadway audition with so little performance experience on his resume, he certainly hadn't expected to land a lead role like Christine. Phantom was one of his favorite productions, and he was beyond ecstatic.

Humming the Overture, he wandered onto the stage, his script held to his chest as he looked around him in wonder. Kurt had logged his share of hours on stage with the glee club, but to be on a Broadway stage in New York City! He had had the entire show memorized since he was seven, and had really only brought the script along to jot down his blocking. He set his script and bag down in the wings, and wandered downstage to gaze out into the seating just as he reached the end of Overture. Believing himself to be alone at the moment, he started singing Think of Me, relishing the acoustics of the huge theater space.

**_Think of me, think of me fondly_**

**_When we've said goodbye_**

**_Remember me once in a while_**

**_Please promise me, you'll try_**

Kurt wasn't alone. Lounging in the shadows of the catwalks, his initial perusal had failed to reveal Blaine Anderson. Blaine had auditioned over the summer while in New York visiting family. He had wandered into the theater out of boredom and stumbled across the auditions. On a lark he tried out, and had been stunned to be offered the role of the Phantom. Now here he was at seventeen, still trying to wrap his head around the whole sequence of events as he quietly soaked up the atmosphere of the theater. With his parents' support, Blaine had petitioned for and received a year's hiatus on his senior year at Dalton. As much as he hated leaving the Warblers, Broadway was his dream, and this casting was an opportunity he could not pass up.

A voice below him pulled Blaine out of his thoughts. He turned towards the sound to see another young man down on the stage. Fashionably dressed, hair well styled, he looked to be a year or two older than Blaine himself. He couldn't see much of his features from his perch, but the newcomer's voice was incredible. Countertenor from the sound of it. It filled the theater, lilting around the highest notes of the song that most men could only dream of hitting. He quietly climbed down to the stage, peering out from the upstage wings for a better look. He still couldn't see his face, but he did take a moment to admire the view from behind. As the other boy approached the pinnacle of the song, Blaine couldn't resist breaking in at the appropriate place with Raoul's lyrics.

**_Can it be? Can it be Christine?_**

**_Bravo!  
Long ago, it seems so long ago_**

**_How young and innocent we were_**

**_She may not remember me_**

**_But I remember her_**

The interruption startled Kurt out of his revelry, and he spun around to locate the source. The intruder was an inch or two taller than him, though long and lanky and slender through the hips and shoulders. His dark hair was gelled into submission close to his head. He sang through a cocky grin as his amber eyes raked up and down Kurt's form. The two slowly approached each other as Kurt finished out the song.

**_Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade_**

**_They have their seasons, so do we_**

**_But please promise me that sometimes_**

**_You will think of me_**

They were face to face as the final notes faded into the far reaches of the theater. Still smiling, Blaine put his hand out to introduce himself.

"Hi, Blaine Anderson. I'm playing the Phantom."

Kurt took Blaine's hand and choked out his own name as a shock traveled across their clasped hands and caused his heart to skip a beat. This vision was his Phantom? Oh boy. Keeping things professional while spending hours playing opposite someone this supermegafoxyawesomehot was going to be quite the challenge.

"Kurt Hummel. I'm your… I mean, I'm playing Christine."

Challenge accepted.


	2. Angel of Music and The Mirror

**I'm floored. I never expected so many people to follow this story. And a couple of favorites to boot! So, enjoy Chapter 2. Kurt's history in the story is kind of canon-but-not. But, yeah, UST much here? And please, please review! Reviews are like crack to me, and usually inspire me to write more. Oh, and bonus points if you spotted the reference in Chapter 1. Yes, my geek is showing a bit there. I'm sure it will pop up again from time to time throughout this story. Oh, and I am not really a lover of Karofsky, and this story will reflect that.**

**TRIGGER WARNING for sexual abuse/rape. It's only touched upon in this chapter, but will be described in more detail in future chapters, referring to Kurt's past. Everything between our boys will be consensual, I promise.**

* * *

**_ Brava, brava, bravissima…_**

**_Christine, Christine…_**

**_Christine…_**

**_Where in the world have you been hiding?_**

**_Really, you were perfect_**

**_I only wish I knew your secret_**

**_Who is your great tutor?_**

Blaine intoned his line ahead of Meg's as he watched rehearsal from the wings. As usual, he felt as if warm waves were washing over him as Kurt sang out on stage. The two boys had become fast friends, grabbing coffee most mornings before rehearsal, and dinner after rehearsal most Fridays. Weekends were spent in one apartment or the other, running lines and perfecting harmonies. Two months in, and Blaine knew he wanted more. He'd lost count of the number of nights he'd gotten home from spending time with Kurt, or seeing Kurt out the door, only to throw himself down on the couch and groan because yet again, he'd chickened out on telling the countertenor how he felt.

**_Father once spoke of an Angel_**

**_I used to dream he'd appear_**

**_Now as I sing I can sense him_**

**_And I know he's here_**

He sighed. Blaine had always dreamed of the day he'd meet just the right guy, and when he had met Kurt, he thought it had finally happened. But it seemed like every time he tried to cross that line between friendship and romance, Kurt shied away from him. It was pretty obvious Kurt wasn't interested, and Blaine grew angry at himself for continuing to pine for something that was never going to happen.

**_Here in this room, he calls me softly,_**

**_Somewhere inside, hiding._**

**_Somehow I know he's always with me,_**

**_He, the unseen genius._**

Despite his best efforts to convince himself it was a bad idea, Kurt had developed a borderline-obsessive crush on his co-star. He had managed to be ok with Blaine's touch during rehearsals, knowing it would go no further than the scripted predictability of the choreography. It was the touches and caresses during their time off stage that rattled his nerves. Those, he couldn't predict. Those, he didn't know where it would stop. But even at that, he managed to hold his ground. As long as Blaine never tried to kiss him. That, Kurt knew, would end badly. His only other experience with another boy had started with a forced kiss. It should have ended there. Instead, he had been threatened and cowed into more. Shoves into lockers turned into shoves into secluded corners, forced to participate, forced to pretend to enjoy it for fear of the abuse and threats to his life if he didn't.

And he could never tell Blaine. His bully had eventually been caught and put away for what he'd done to Kurt physically, but the mental scars never fully faded. He just couldn't bear to let Blaine close, only to see him turn away when he found out how used and disgusting Kurt really was.

**_He's with me even now (your hands are cold)_**

**_All around me (Your face, Christine, it's white)_**

**_It frightens me (Don't be frightened)_**

The feeling simmered in his chest as he watched the interactions on stage between Kurt and each of the actors playing Meg and Raoul as the play progressed. Concern etched his features when the ghost of fear crossed Kurt's face. Blaine knew this part of the music called for a little of it, but the measure he read now, where did that come from? Blaine's anger flared again at the thought of anyone causing that kind of pain to the beautiful creature that was Kurt. His temper was about to the boiling point as they approached The Mirror. Blaine poured all his frustration and anger into his opening lines, hissing them out as Raoul left the scene.

**_Insolent boy, this slave of fashion. _**

**_Basking in your glory. _**

**_Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor. _**

**_Sharing in my triumph!_**

Kurt startled, not quite expecting the venom in Blaine's voice as the song started. At least he was supposed to be looking around scared in this scene, because the baritone's tone of voice was pretty unsettling. He swallowed as he responded.

**_Angel, I hear you. Speak, I listen. _**

**_Stay by my side. Guide me. _**

**_Angel, my soul was weak; forgive me. _**

**_Enter at last, Master._**

He choked on the last word, not wanting to admit even to himself how much this song sounded like Christine practically begging the Phantom to take her, and thus the implications of what Kurt was essentially singing to Blaine.

He had enjoyed getting to know Blaine better the last several weeks. Their voices blended well in practice, both on stage and off. He was only just starting to recognize the jolt he'd experienced the first day as the early stirrings of attraction. For Kurt, attraction was a mental thing, cerebral. The physical aspect followed much later. So when Blaine had started coming on to him, Kurt's first instinct was to run. Every time Blaine touched him, even just a brush on the cheek, it was an instant shock to the groin. He didn't want the physical side, not yet. So he ran.

**_Flattering child, you shall know me. _**

**_See why in shadow I hide. _**

**_Look at your face in the mirror. _**

**_I am there inside._**

Blaine had moved to just inside the wings, hidden from the audience but visible from the stage. From here he could just make out the expression on Kurt's face as Kurt sang his next lines, slightly shaking his head and staring Blaine straight in the eye.

**_Angel of music, guide and guardian, _**

**_Grant to me your glory. _**

**_Angel of music, hide no longer. _**

**_Come to me, strange Angel._**

Blaine was floored. Was Kurt scared… of him? Had he come on too strong? Too soon? Blaine panicked, feeling his chance to win Kurt over slipping out of his grasp. Damnit, why hadn't he just told him, instead of letting the physicality of his actions speak for him? Kurt probably thought he was just out to get laid, and he clearly wasn't interested. Blaine poured all the pleading and encouragement he could into his final lines of the song, praying Kurt understood what he was trying to say.

**_I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of music..._**

**_I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of Music..._**

Kurt hesitated. He knew that at this point he was supposed to approach the mirror, take Blaine's hand, and step through with him. He looked up, and his breath caught in his throat at the look in Blaine's eyes. The concern and affection there confused him. With a deep breath, he reminded himself that he knew what was coming already. Though the next song would be very physical and emotional, it was all scripted. It was choreographed. Blaine would not hurt him.

He steeled himself and headed for the mirror, towards Blaine. The boys started into the title song, and they were doing well. Until Blaine messed up the choreography. He pulled Kurt into an embrace a verse too soon, and that was it. Kurt's fragile nerves shattered, and he fought to break away, falling the floor in his haste.

Blaine rushed forward, trying to comfort him. "Kurt…"

"No!" It was Kurt's turn to panic, fear spurring him into action. There was a reason he hadn't dated anyone since junior year in high school, a reason Blaine's physical approach scared him. It was a secret he couldn't share, not without Blaine thinking he was used up garbage. As Blaine stepped towards him, he did the only thing instinct would let him do when it came to the young man advancing on him.

He ran. Not caring that he left his bag with everything in it against the back wall of the stage, he ran.

an.


	3. Musical Interlude

**So, Ch 2 has undergone a sizeable rewrite. It was bugging the heck out of me, and I finally figured out what needed changing. I encourage you to go back and re-read it before proceeding with this chapter. Pay attention to the added trigger warning for Ch 2, outlined in the author's note at the top of the chapter. If it's a problem for you, Ch 3 will be perfectly understandable without reading the updated Ch 2, but I feel like it flows much better with the added content. If you do choose to re-read, please review and let me know what you think!**

**This turned into more of a bridge chapter than anything, but Ch 4 is coming in the next day or two, provided I don't get bogged down with midterm coursework.**

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Kurt didn't stop running until he reached the elevator in his building. Thank God he only lived a few blocks from the theater. Punching the button for his floor, he sunk back against the wall, catching his breath. He heard the doors open, and walked down the hall. It wasn't until he reached his door that he realized he had placed his keys in his bag during rehearsal… and that he had bolted from the theater without his bag. There was always the chance… But even as he pounded on the door, he remembered that Rachel had mentioned going out for dinner with Brody after her last class. He was locked out until whenever time she decided to wander home. If she came home tonight.

The realization that he may have to sleep in the hall that night was the final straw. Kurt collapsed to the floor, leaning against the rough wood barring him from his home, and started sobbing. He couldn't believe how badly the day had turned out. It had started with being late for Cassandra's class, earning him such scathing derision that he was distracted in the remainder of his classes. One instructor had even asked him to leave when his lack of focus almost caused injury to another student. He had hoped things were improving when rehearsal started well, until the anger in Blaine's voice and eyes and the mess-up with the choreography had triggered Kurt's long-buried fear, and he had humiliated himself by running away like a kicked puppy.

Back at the theater, Blaine and the rest of the cast were still trying to figure out what had happened. Finally, the director called an end to rehearsal for the day, asking Blaine to stay behind. Blaine went to sit on the edge of the stage, and waited while the rest of the cast filed out. Finally, the director approached him.

"Blaine, you know him best. What happened?"

"I'm not sure, sir." He glanced around, and his eyes landed on Kurt's abandoned bag. "Whatever it was, it was bad enough that he left his stuff behind. I know where he lives, if we're done here I'll go make sure he's ok."

The director nodded. "Just… Call me and let me know what's up. If he's sick, I'll need to rearrange the rehearsal schedule to accommodate, and will need to make phone calls tonight."

Blaine agreed. He snagged Kurt's bag on the way out of the theater and started the walk to Kurt's building.


	4. Bridge

**Wow! I think I just hit 20 or so followers on this story. That's just... wow. Love you guys! As a side note, just to be safe I have updated the rating on this fic to M, mostly for the content in this chapter. I got a bit more descriptive than I intended. On the upside, you guys have gotten just spoiled today, with a rewritten Ch 2, and TWO new chapters. My job here is done (for tonight at least). Enjoy!**

**TRIGGER WARNING for rape and assault.**

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Blaine heard the sobbing as soon as he stepped off the elevator. His heart broke when he saw Kurt on the floor in front of his door. He approached him carefully, softly calling Kurt's name so he didn't spook him any further. Kurt watched him warily as Blaine took the bag off his shoulder, kneeling next to him.

"Hey, what happened? Are you ok?" Not thinking, he reached out to wipe a tear from Kurt's cheek, pulling back as Kurt flinched.

"I… I can't tell you. You… you wouldn't want to know anyways,"

"Kurt, I care about you. Tell me. It can't be that bad."

"I… I care about you too. That's why I can't tell you." Kurt heaved a deep shuddering sigh, then in a whisper, "I couldn't bear it when you decided you didn't like me anymore."

Blaine wasn't sure what tore him apart more. The idea that he himself had scared Kurt so badly somehow, or the knowledge that someone or something in Kurt's past had somehow convinced him that he was worth so little. He reached a hand out to Kurt, hesitating to give him time to adjust, and placed it on his shoulder. "Please, just tell me. I won't leave you, I promise. Please.

Kurt looked up at him. He wanted to trust him. His red puffy eyes met Blaine's, reading deep in, searching for any warning that the other boy might be lying to him. All he found was friendly concern. Finally noticing his bag at Blaine's side, he reached for it, digging for his keys.

"All right. Come in. And thank you for bringing me my bag. Thought I was going to have to sleep in the hall tonight."

Kurt accepted a hand up and unlocked his door. Inside, he asked Blaine to grab them a couple of drinks from the fridge while he put his things away. Coming back into the room, he accepted the soda from Blaine, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. He focused for a moment on the drink in his hands, fiddling with the tab and trying to figure out the best way to start. It was easier to think that way than looking at his friend. Squeezing his eyes shut, he just started talking.

"Back in high school, there was this Neanderthal whose sole mission in life seemed to be making my life miserable. For a long time, it wasn't much more than getting slammed into a locker or tossed in a dumpster, or called rude names. That all changed junior year."

As he spoke, he started to find that finally telling someone, letting it all out, was cathartic. Tears rolled down his face again as he described finally getting the courage to follow Karofsky into that locker room to confront him, only to have it end with Karofsky stealing his first kiss. He described the incidents after that, the never knowing when he might get shoved into a closet or empty classroom, shoved to his knees, and his tormentor's dick shoved down his throat. He spoke of being forced to pretend he enjoyed it, and about being threatened if he didn't. He told Blaine about getting cornered in the locker room after gym, pressed to the wall and his pants pulled down, Karofsky fisting Kurt's cock roughly, and his shame as his body reacted against his will and decorated the wall in front of him with his come. About being shoved against the lockers afterwards, Karofsky threatening to kill him if he ever told anyone what happened, left there on the floor with his pants around his ankles, sobbing. And finally of lingering just a little too long in the shower after football practice, waiting for the other guys to leave, only to get caught by Karofsky, shoved against three different walls, raped with no preparation, no lube, and beaten til he was barely conscious, left broken and bleeding under the stream of water.

Mercifully, that was the act that had lead to the end of his troubles. The beat of the water had cleared Kurt's head just enough that he was able to pull on a pair of sweats and stumble home, only to collapse just inside the door in full view of his dad and Carole. A trip to the hospital and a statement to the police, and Karofsky had been arrested and convicted, and put away for a good long time.

Blaine sat frozen in his seat staring at Kurt, who was once again sobbing into his hands. Blaine had been bullied in high school himself before Dalton, even spent time in the hospital after being beaten, but never had he been hurt to the core like that. Nobody deserved to be violated like that. Even two years later, he was surprised that Kurt functioned as well as he did in day to day life. It also went a long ways to explaining why Kurt had rebuffed his advances.

He edged closer to Kurt, trying not to startle him, and suddenly found his lap full of boy. It took a moment to realize that Kurt now resided there and had thrown his arms around Blaine's neck, actively seeking comfort from him. Blaine slowly wrapped his arms around Kurt, giving him time to move away if he wished. Finally he was holding him tight, stroking his hair and murmuring comforts, allowing Kurt to cry himself out. It wasn't long before he realized Kurt was asleep. Blaine sighed, and pulled Kurt down into the crook of his arm as he stretched out on the sofa. He made sure Kurt wasn't confined before settling in to take a nap while he waited for Kurt to wake up.


	5. How to Help?

**Feels like forever since I posted! I was going to wait til I got to and through the song, but I wanted to get something up, and the chapter was getting massive. So here's a nugget to chew on while I finish what is now Chapter 6. Enjoy!**

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It was dark when Kurt woke up. The first thing that registered was sound. Apparently Rachel and Brody had made it home, and either didn't know or didn't care that he was just the other side of a thin cotton sheet wall. The next thing to register was the warmth at his back and the weight on his hip. That wasn't right. He reached down to discover the object on his hip was a hand. Startled, he tried to scramble away but only succeeded in tumbling off the sofa to the floor. He cringed as the area flooded with light.

The sudden movement and resulting thud had roused Blaine. He realized Kurt was gone, and reached up to turn on the lamp on the coffee table. He blinked down at Kurt sitting on the floor. "What are you doing down there?"

Before Kurt could answer, Blaine registered the other sounds in the room. "Are they at it again?"

Kurt grimaced and nodded. He had calmed down once he realized that Blaine had been the heat at his back and the hand on his hip. That same hand was now extended to help him up. He accepted the help, and sat back down next to Blaine.

Blaine winced as the volume increased on the other side of the sheet. "Well, that's awkward. Want to go back to my place and talk there?"

Kurt readily agreed. They threw their coats on and headed out the door. As they reached the street, Blaine asked, " Feeling any better?"

Kurt nodded. "Much better, thanks."

They walked down the street for a few minutes before Blaine spoke again. "Can you tell me what happened at the theater today?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "Ok. Let me preface this by saying, I haven't been oblivious to your interest in me. And I suppose that's part of the problem. It's taken the past two years of therapy to be ok with people in general. I know that the average guy on the street isn't going to do anything to me." He paused, then, "It's when I know someone has an interest in me that the fear starts. No matter how much I trust someone, once the line between friendship and more is crossed, or they show aggression, instinct takes over. I trigger, and cohesive thought goes away, and I am at the mercy of my reflexes.

"Tonight was… I was fine until I looked up and saw you. You looked really mad about something. That put me on tenterhooks, even though deep down I knew there was no reason you would be mad at me. I managed to hold on though, because I knew that any move you made towards me would be part of the choreography; it was predictable, I knew what was happening next. In that context, I knew you weren't going to hurt me, and that allowed me to keep ahold of myself. Then you messed up the choreography. I think that if I hadn't already been on edge, I would have been ok. But the line was already pretty thin. When you messed up, the predictability vanished. In my mind, suddenly I didn't know what you might do, and as much as I tried to rationalize that you still wouldn't hurt me, the reflex was stronger. I lost hold of myself and got out of there." He stopped for another breath. "Thank you for bringing me my things by the way. I don't think I said it before."

"No problem." By now, they had reached Blaine's apartment. An idea was forming in his head. Blaine let them into the apartment, and turned to Kurt. "I think I know how to help, at least to not trigger on stage."


End file.
